Grace
by ksfd89
Summary: Oneshot about Rory's experience with ballet, as referenced in S1! Hope you enjoy it! Gilmore Girls isn't mine!


**Oneshot about Rory's disastrous ballet experience, as referenced in S1! I hope you enjoy it. Gilmore Girls isn't mine!**

There's a loud thump of a failed leap and Rory straightens up, smoothing her leotard down. She's going to get this no matter how long it takes.

"Hey there, Anna Pavlova," Lorelai says, putting the laundry basket down. "How many jumps has that been?"

"It's not a jump," Rory says indignantly. "It's a leap."

"Uh huh. Do you think you could take a break soon? You're going to pirouette right through the floor, and we've only just moved in. I know it'd be a fun way to leave the house but I'm cool with the door."

"Mom, I have to practise," Rory says sternly, leaning against the couch. "The recital is next Saturday."

"I know it is, but honey, you've been practising all morning. Take a break, get some water. Aren't you dying to get back to your book?"

"I'm only reading about ballet positions this week," Rory tells her. "I've finished _Ballet Shoes_. Besides, if I stop now I'll just have to change later."

"And that's another thing - do you have to practise in your full costume? Can't you dance just as well in your shirt and leggings?"

"It's not the same. I want to do it properly."

"Okay, but proper ballerinas take breaks. Go get changed, eat a snack and I don't want to see any more dancing for at least an hour, capiche?"

"Fine," Rory grumbles. She stretches, warming down, and pads back into her bedroom, slipping off her ballet shoes. They're second-hand, along with the leotard, but Rory loves them. She started ballet lessons this fall with Lane and is starring in Miss Patty's production of Swan Lake. Rory has always wanted to take ballet but Lorelai never had time to get her to lessons and back to the inn, where they had their home. Now they live in Stars Hollow, in a real house, right in town. Rory lies down on the bed, suddenly winded, and stares up at the ceiling. It still feels strange not to live at the inn, in the potting shed. She and her mother shared a bed and while it was small, it was cosy and Rory misses it. It had rosebud wallpaper and was their own, special apartment. She can't get used to the house but know Lorelai wanted it for a long time. She was so excited to move in, have their own place, that Rory hasn't admitted she liked living at the inn more. She's still getting used to the house but she does like having her own bedroom, with space for all her books. Rory has put up posters of all the places she wants to go and is saving her money for more. On the board by her bed she's pinned a picture of Harvard where one day, after high school, she's going to study. It's all Rory's ever wanted to do, for as long as she can remember.

Once she's caught her breath and changed clothes, Rory goes to the kitchen, grabs a cookie and goes out to see Lane. Her best friend lives in an antique store and it's always interesting trying to find her in the maze of furniture. Today, however, Lane is outside by the sign and she waves at Rory, jumping up and down.

"Mama has such a big sale today," she says as Rory goes over to her. "She keeps yelling that I'm under her feet, but I don't know where else to be. She's selling everything and it's so loud in there. Do you want to get a soda or something?"

Rory checks her pockets and finds three dollars.

"Sure. A soda would be good."

"Lane," comes a voice behind them, making them jump. "Where are you going?"

"Just out with Rory, Mama," Lane says meekly. "Is that okay?"

Her mother looks at the girls sternly and then nods.

"Be home by five. We will eat tofu in casserole."

"Hello, Mrs Kim," Rory says shyly and Mrs Kim turns to her, giving her a piercing look. Rory finds Lane's mother a little scary. She disapproves of Lorelai and the way they live, telling Rory more than once that she needs a father and asking why her mother isn't married. Rory didn't know what to say to her. Most of the time her father changes his number and they don't know until they try to call.

Lane says goodbye and they turn, walking up the road and round the gazebo where Rory lets out a breath. Lane looks at her and they start to giggle uncontrollably, not stopping until Rory has a pain in her side.

"She's scary," Rory says eventually and Lane nods, eyes huge.

"I'm still scared she'll take me out of the recital."

"Lane, she already approved."

"Rory, it's Mama. Mrs Kim changes her mind whenever there's sin involved."

"How is ballet sinful?"

"I heard Mrs Patty talking to a delivery guy last week," Lane says, looking around. "I just walking past the studio and she was telling him how sensual dance is."

"Wow."

"Rory, what does _sensual_ mean?"

"I'm not sure," Rory says honestly. She's read the word in books sometimes but doesn't really understand it, even after looking it up in the dictionary. "Like wanting to kiss someone, I guess?"

Lane wrinkles her nose and Rory laughs again. They link arms, walk into Luke's and take a seat at the counter.

"What can I get you, girls?" Luke asks. He has a notepad in his hand, sounding tired, and when Rory asks for two Cokes he says,

"Thank God," with a sigh.

"What's up, Luke?"

"It's been crazy in here today," Luke says, gesturing at the tables still filled with empty plates. "You just missed the lunch rush. Two Cokes coming right up."

He brings the drinks over along with two doughnuts and when Rory exclaims,

"What's this?" he smiles and says,

"Don't dancers need their strength? I hear you have a recital soon."

"It's not until next week. Luke, we don't have much allowance left."

"On the house," Luke says, waving his hand. "Enjoy."

The girls grin at each other and start to eat. Lane finishes hers first and sighs, eating every last grain of sugar. Anything sweet is banned in her house.

"So is it going to be a fancy dance this year?" Luke asks. "Like that one with the toys coming to life?"

Rory stares at him in surprise and Luke shrugs, looking embarrassed.

"My mom liked ballet when she was a kid. She showed me some pictures of a play she was in. She said she had the main part - some girl called Clara."

"That's The Nutcracker," Rory tells him. She's been reading up on ballet for the past month. "We're doing Swan Lake."

"But we don't have main parts," Lane says glumly. "We're just background dancers."

"Only kids who've been dancing since they were in Kindergarten get main parts," Rory adds. "It's not fair."

"Well, Rory, the main part's a lot of work," Luke says, spreading his hands. "They need someone who knows how to do all that fancy leg stuff."

Rory and Lane stare at him and break into laughter, making Luke roll his eyes.

"Ah jeez, you know what I mean. It's a lot of work. My mom danced since she was a little kid."

"How long did she dance for?" Lane asks curiously and Luke coughs, scratching his ear.

"Until high school. She wanted to dance more, go to some special school for it, but her father said no. They didn't have enough money and he said she didn't need it. She finished high school and then she got married a year later."

"Oh," Lane says softly. Luke nods and Rory concentrates on drinking the last of her soda. She's suddenly sad.

"Yeah, well," Luke says eventually. "She loved showing me the pictures from back then. I bet your production's going to be great. You'll knock it out of the park."

Rory and Lane giggle, thank him, slide off the stools and leave the diner. They walk in silence down the street and Rory muses,

"I bet we could dance just as well as the other kids. It's so unfair."

"What's unfair is that Lindsay Lister gets to be Giselle," Lane says, kicking a pebble out of the way. She won't stop talking about it."

"I go to school with her too, you know."

"Then you know what I mean."

"We just have to practise more," Rory says, rasing her arms above her head. "I'm sure we could be just as good as Lindsay."

She dances daintily down the street, making Lane laugh, before jumping and landing by the street sign.

"See? Practise!"

"It's really hard," Lane says. "I don't think I'd be good enough by the recital."

"Yes, you can!"

"I like just getting to go on the stage," Lane says, catching up with her with a starry look in her eyes. "It's fun, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Rory echoes but doesn't say that it means more to her. She wants it to be more than fun. It has to be perfect.

When she gets back Lorelai is sitting at the table, frowning with a pen and paper, a cup and peculator of coffee beside her. Rory quietly goes to get a drink of water, knowing she's working on their finance, but her mother lets out a theatrical groan and puts down the pen.

"Ugh, I'm so done with this. Did you have fun with Lane?"

"Yeah. We went to Luke's."

"And did you tell him all about the recital?"

"Of course."

Rory smiles at her mother and Lorelai sighs.

"I don't get it, I really don't."

"That's because you sucked at ballet."

"Excuse me, I didn't suck," Lorelai retorts. "I kicked Missy Stein because she told me I was too tall to dance and the teacher made me leave."

"Okay."

"I didn't suck."

"Fine."

"You suck, not me."

Rory looks up and Lorelai stops, mid-laugh.

"You think I suck?" Rory asks in a small voice and Lorelai moves over to her, taking her hand.

"I didn't mean - I'm sorry."

"You think I suck," Rory says again and Lorelai shakes her head.

"I think it's great you're having such a good time with ballet."

"But you don't think I'm good at it."

"I don't think you're going to master all the moves, but that's because you've only taken classes this year. It's no big deal, Rory."

"But I want to be good at it."

"You should just concentrate on having fun," Lorelai says earnestly. "Rory, you do so well with school. Just enjoy it."

Rory nods and her throat is too tight to tell her mother she'll enjoy it by getting it right. Lorelai kisses the top of her head and says,

"Hey, I'm about done here. What do you say we watch a movie? You pick."

"Okay," Rory says, managing a smile and Lorelai grins.

"Okay! And with icecream!"

They watch _Sleeping Beauty_ \- Lorelai vetoed a ballet theme but at least the prince can dance - and Rory sits up late, reading with a flashlight. All the girls in the books look so proud, so gracefully talented. Can't she be that way too? She's a head taller than all the other girls but Rory is sure that if she just tries harder, she too will find the secret to dancing. She reads and reads until her eyes grow heavy and, when she wakes the next morning, the book and flashlight have been moved to the shelf.

The rest of the week flies by. Rory has three quizzes and aces them all but barely notices. Lindsay keeps talking about playing Giselle, telling the gaggle of girls around her how her mother is going to put her hair in a special French bun for the part.

"Giselle is French too," Lindsay says loftily. "It adds to the character."

"I bet you can't spell her name," Rory finds herself saying and Lindsay turns around, narrowing her eyes.

"Can too."

"Can not."

"Can too."

"Can not! You can't even spell _February_ , you're so dumb!"

"I'm still the lead," Lindsay snaps. "So it doesn't matter if I can't anyway!"

Rory steps back, stung, and Lindsay laughs, going back into the school. Rory sinks down on the steps, hugging her knees and feeling an odd sense of shame. She knows it doesn't matter who plays Giselle, but it hurts her, all through, and Rory feels small and alone.

Suddenly, it's Saturday. Rory spends the morning in heightened anxiety, barely able to eat breakfast. The performance is at twelve. She practised every day after school and late last night, when she should have been in bed. Her eyelids are drooping and Rory forces them open. She has to be awake, she must concentrate. She puts on her leotard, staring in the mirror, and Lorelai comes in and smiles.

"That's a whole lot of pink."

"I guess."

"Are you nervous?"

"No," Rory says staunchly and then, "A little."

"Break a leg."

"What?" Rory asks, whirling round and Lorelai laughs.

"It's how you wish someone good luck in theatre."

"Oh. Right. I forgot."

Lorelai picks up Rory's hairbrush, tying her long, brown hair into a knot at the back. Her mother's own hair is pulled back, into a messy bun, and for once Rory can see why so many people have said they look more like sisters. Her mother is only sixteen years older than her and standing here, in her baggy T-shirt and old jeans she looks almost like a teenager.

"Mom, did you like ballet class?" Rory asks. "Before you kicked that girl?"

That makes Lorelai laugh.

"It was the second class, so I didn't get much experience. My parents were horrified by that."

Rory bites her lip. Her grandparents live in Hartford, where she sees them on holidays, and there's always a frosty air. It's the only times she sees her father, too.

"It's too bad we don't have a camcorder," Rory says eventually. "You know, for the recital?

"I don't know," Lorelai says uncomfortably. "Emily and Richard can be a little impatient with what they call amateur productions."

"Sure," Rory says quietly. She doesn't elaborate on wanting her father to see it and that maybe, if he does, he'll want to see the town his daughter lives in. Her mother gets sad when she talks about that.

Lorelai tucks in some loose hairs and pats her shoulders.

"Okay, Darcy Bussell. You're all set!"

Rory puts on a pair of jeans over the leotard, slips on her jacket and grabs her bag with the shoes. Her mother changes into a dress, brushing her hair out, and they start walking over. Rory gets a queasy feeling in her stomach as they approach the dance studio and it doesn't let up, even when she sees Lane wave. Rory changes out of the jeans, swaps her shoes and lines up with the other girls. Miss Patty comes out, clapping her hands.

"Ladies, this is it. If you need to tinkle, you'll just have to hold it in. Remember those moves, keep your hands in the air, not in the nose, and dance like you were born to!"

They all file impatiently out into the studio, which seems more glamorous than it is on normal days. The stage is lit and the room is dark so, for a moment, Rory can't see anyone's faces in the audience. She doesn't know if it's good or bad.

At first, the recital is smooth. No one trips or misses their step and Rory has to admit that Lindsay makes a great Giselle. She eyes her a little jealously but when she and Lane flutter around her, doing their small duet, Rory hears her mother whoop and call her name.

"Go, Rory! Go!"

Rory grins over at Lorelai, whose face she can just about make out. The curtain goes down for the intermission and as she drinks grape juice and eats a cookie Rory peeks around the corner to look at the audience. Her mother is drinking from a thermos she must have smuggled in and next to her is Luke. Rory's mouth drops open in shock and she ducks back, hissing to Lane,

"Luke's here!"

"What?" Lane asks, spilling crumbs from her cookie. "Are you sure?"

"Lane, it's him."

"Why's he here?"

"I have no idea."

Lane stares but there's no time to debate it as Miss Patty claps her hands. It's time to go back on stage, mouths and hands are hastily wiped and the music starts again.

The second half is almost over when it's time to do the jumps, the ones Rory's been practising, over the stage. Everyone leaps, more or less successfully, and then it's Rory's turn. She takes a deep breath, starts to jump and then lands with a thump. More than a thump. She starts to fall, stops herself with her hand and Lindsay giggles. Her laughter is echoed with chuckles from the audience and as Rory straightens up it doesn't stop. They are all laughing. Everyone is laughing at her and her eyes smart. Is this how she was born to dance? She's too tall and she does suck and, unable to bear it, Rory turns and runs off the stage, ignoring the call of Miss Patty's,

"Rory, you can't just leave the show!"

Rory runs and runs all the way home. She leaves her bag, Lorelai, and doesn't stop until she's lying on her bed in tears. She messed it all up. She practised over and over and it didn't help and then everyone laughed at her. She's glad her father wasn't there. She's nowhere close to a good dancer. Rory cries and cries into her pillow and doesn't stop, even when she feels her mother's hand on her back.

"Hey," Lorelai says gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Rory sobs. "Go away."

"Honey."

Rory doesn't lift her head. Her mother doesn't leave but Rory can feel her gently untying the bun, lifting her hair loose and fanning it out. Finally, Rory sits up and lets Lorelai pull her into a hug.

"Oh, sweetie. It's okay."

"I was awful," Rory hiccups. "I was terrible."

"Rory."

"You can't even say I wasn't!"

"Rory, it doesn't matter," Lorelai says gently. "It's just some dumb ballet recital."

"It does matter!" Rory wails. "I wanted to be perfect and I screwed it up! I worked so hard and I fell!"

"Rory, when did you decide to become a ballerina?"

"I don't know if I wanted to be a ballerina," Rory says in a wobbly voice. "But I wanted to be good."

Lorelai is silent for a moment and then looks into her daughter's eyes.

"Rory, listen to me. It's not possible for anyone to be good at everything. It just isn't."

"But I wanted to be good. I practised so much and I read all those books."

"Sweets, ballet isn't something you can learn out of a book. It takes years to be a great dancer."

"But what about those kids who have natural gifts?"

"Well, there aren't very many of them and even then, they have to work for years. Rory, you're great at so many other things. Look at how smart you are, look at how many books you read. It doesn't matter if you're bad at ballet."

"Everyone laughed at me," Rory says, starting to cry again. "I looked really stupid."

"You didn't look stupid."

"Why was everyone laughing then?"

Lorelai hesitates and Rory buries her face back in the pillow. Lorelai tucks some hair behind her ear and says,

"I know it's the worst when grown-ups say this, but one day you'll laugh at this."

"I do hate it and I won't laugh."

"You'll find it funny one day, but not because you looked stupid. Everyone has moments where they do something dumb and people laugh. Telling the girls in my algebra class that I was having a baby and wouldn't be back next year is one of them."

"Mom."

"Not that you were something dumb. Total opposite."

"I just wish I hadn't fallen," Rory says, lifting her face up. "In front of Lindsay too. I was mean to her, Mom. I made fun of her for not being able to spell."

"That wasn't very cool, Rory."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I know you are. Why'd you say it?"

"I was mad about her getting to be Giselle."

Lorelai nods and Rory sniffles, wiping her eyes. Lorelai looks at her and asks,

"Rory, why does it matter so much to be good at it? I thought you wanted to go to Harvard."

"I do. Mom, I don't want to be a ballerina, I just - I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to dance perfectly."

"Rory, no one can be perfect all the time either. Even if you had taken classes since you were able to walk, you might have still screwed up."

"But I'm bad at it anyway. I know I am."

"Well, me too," Lorelai says. "I think I could tell I was going to suck from that first class. Kicking Missy just stopped me before it got embarrassing."

Rory laughs and Lorelai kisses her cheek.

"Hey, do you want to go get a burger?"

"Okay," Rory says with a sniffle. "Mom, why was Luke there?"

"He said he just couldn't miss the production. He got Caeser to cover for him."

Rory smiles and Lorelai gets up, squeezing her hand.

"Put on some normal clothes and meet me by the door in five minutes."

Rory peels off her leotard and kicks off the shoes. She never wants to wear them again.

Luke gives them a big smile when they arrive.

"I believe someone deserves an icecream sundae."

"No, I don't," Rory says miserably. "I didn't finish the dance."

"You gave it a good shot."

Lorelai pats her shoulder, going to the bathroom and Rory sighs.

"I fell over."

"No big deal, Rory. We all slip up - no pun intended."

Rory can't help smiling and Luke adds,

"I thought you looked like Anna Karenina."

Rory frowns and Luke asks,

"Isn't she that famous ballerina?"

"That's Anna Pavlova. _Anna Karenina_ is a novel."

"By Tolstoy, right?" Luke guesses and as Rory nods he asks,

"Have you read it?"

"No. I tried a few months ago but it was too long."

"But you'll read it," Luke says confidently. "Rory, I've never seen a kid read as much as you. One day you'll write something or make some kind of speech and everyone will be amazed. No one'll laugh at that."

"I just wanted to be good," Rory says in a small voice and Luke nods.

"Yeah. I know."

"Thanks for coming," Rory says and Luke smiles, handing her her sundae.

"I wouldn't miss it. You know, my sister was in a ballet production once."

"She was? I didn't know you had a sister."

"Yeah, she lives in New York with her kid. He's really into books."

Rory ponders this and Luke says,

"You know, it may even have been Swan Lake. I wonder why they picked it. Swans are pretty scary birds."

"Scary to dance, too."

Lorelai comes out and, as Rory eats the icecream, starts ordering burgers and a triple strength coffee. Luke argues with her, exclaiming about caffeine and as Lorelai retorts with sassy remarks Rory sits back, starting to smile. The day feels better already.

As they start home Rory sees Lane sitting on the steps of the gazebo. She gets up as they approach and Rory says,

"Lane, it's okay. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I ran away."

"It's fine. You didn't miss much."

Rory smiles and Lane asks,

"Do you think you'll take lessons again?"

"No," Rory says firmly. "I don't think ballet's for me."

"Me either."

"Don't quit because I am, Lane. I'm just not good at it."

"I'm pretty bad too," Lane says, and they both giggle. "We can suck together."

They laugh a little more and then Lane says,

"Well, I'd better go. I can't be late home."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Rory promises. Lane nods and Rory watches her run back down the street. When they get back Lorelai says,

"Wait there. I want to show you something."

She comes back a few minutes later with a pink book in her hand. Rory spies the word _ballet_ and groans.

"Mom, I don't want to think about that."

"Hey, take a look for a second. Come on."

Lorelai sits on the couch and Rory unwillingly joins her. Lorelai shows her the book properly and Rory sees it says _Lorelai's Ballet_.

"My parents gave this to me when I was eight," Lorelai tells her. "I was supposed to use it all year until my recital. Look inside."

Rory opens it and only the first page is filled. It's a photo of her mother, wearing a leotard and frown, her hair coaxed into a bun on top of her head.

"I wouldn't smile," Lorelai laughs. "I was supposed to look like a princess."

"You?"

"Me. Not going to happen."

Rory laughs, leaning into her arms. Her mother looks like she did this morning. Their costume is the exact same pink.

"You should have seen me next to the other kids," Lorelai carries on. "Twice as tall and feet twice as wide. Missy commented on that right before I kicked her. I said my foot was just too wide not to miss."

Rory laughs and laughs and Lorelai puts the book away, smiling.

"I guess neither of us have dancing in our genes."

"I don't think it's the worst thing in the world," Rory remarks. "It looks kind of painful."

"I'll say. Hey kid, do you want to watch a movie?"

"Anything but ballet."

"Thank God for that!"

That night, Rory puts the ballet things away. She can't imagine ever needing them and, as she looks back up, the Harvard board catches her eye. Rory stares up, imagining herself in the future and laughing. It seems a long way away but for now, she's content enough. It's time to move on with the dance.


End file.
